Be At Peace
by GlitteryGumdrop
Summary: A short little unknown ficlet scene that happens at he beginning of the TT when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are searching for the hobbits, they find someone they didn't expect in a goblin ritual. Fluffly/and sad.
1. Default Chapter

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~* Be At Peace *~

Aragorn pushed a damp wisp of dark hair away from his face as he trudged along, easily following the torn and slashed path of the orcs ahead. He sighed, his heart feeling heavy as he surveyed the faces of his companions. At best the hobbits were lying dead somewherebloody carcasses in some dark forest

He shuddered at the thought, fierce anger rushing through him, transforming to adrenaline. He pushed such thoughts from his mind, there was no time for them. Renewed with spirit, he took up the task with new energy and began striding quickly along, scanning the earth for clues.

Awhile later, he was still in hot pursuit, his spirits still high despite the discomfort caused by his damp and sweaty clothes and body. It was now twilight and cool darkness was creeping over the land. He ran a battle hardened hand through his hair, stopping to catch his breath. He hadn't taken his eyes from the path all afternoon. The others slowed down, Legolas' eyes watching him keenly, Gimli's stout face shiny and hopeful. 

A slow smile crept across Aragorn's face. His light eyes shined. He did not even have to say anything to them as he broke into a sprint, heart thumping in his temples. He had seen the foot prints for a second time and ran toward the dark clump of trees. 

Something was glowing within. A very faint orange light, even Gimli could see it, like the light of a cozy fire. Aragorn's heart soared as he ran, sword swishing behind him. Gimli smiled as he thought of the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, sitting around a warm fire, eating sausages and joking. He quickened his pace. 

Somehow Aragorn was in the lead, halfway following the small foot prints and the glowing light. As he got closer, his ranger senses finally snapped back. Quietly, on his guard, he told Gimli and Legolas to wait, he would get closer and give them a signal if all was well. 

He crept along silently, stiff and alert, suddenly ready for trouble. He had remembered what sorts of things slithered into the night in Middle Earth. Foul creatures who craved death and blood, creatures like goblins or trolls. 

Crouching behind a thick tree trunk, he leaned against it, clutching the hilt of his sword. He could hear loud voices. His heart sank. It was no voice of a hobbit. Though they were high, the voices were cruel: It was Goblins. 

As he crept closer he could see them dancing about snarling and screaming so terribly he cringed, not wanting to see what kind of evil ceremony they could be having. But something inside him made him look, and what he saw made his heart stop. 

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A/N: Well, what did you think? Like it? Was it any good? PLeeeeeASE review! Should I keep going? 


	2. Goblin Ritual

By the time he had finally gotten near to the scene, most of the goblins had fallen into a drunken sleep, snoring like growling wargs. He snarled in disgust. Two guards slumped against tree trunks, slabs of raw pink meat strewn everywhere, some still roasting on a spit. The burnt smell made him gag. He didn't want to look at it too closely. Goblins would eat anything if it had some sort of meat. 

From what he could see, it was apparent that the goblins had made a special journey far from home to the forest, to perform their savage ritual. He could not remember the names but most ceremonies were alike, occurring every two years and lasting up to a fortnight, they often involved the eating of live meat, and sacrifices of some sort. 

Aragorn's eyes flitted around in search for some remains of whatever the sacrifice had been. There was still some grim hope that it might still be alivehe might be able to ease its passing if nothing else. He was glad Gimli and Legolas had stayed behind. They were grim hearted enough and didn't need further disgust to lower their spirits. 

Suddenly, he was filled with rage and anger beyond comprehension, whether at the fact that the hobbits had not been found, or just deepest loathing of the sight before him, he flew into action, his sword flashing in the firelight. The goblins had only the chance to scream before he silenced them. 

A few stumbled to their feet, but they were quickly thrown down. Panting, Aragorn leaned against a tree to catch his breath, putting his sword in its sheath, not even noticing his few cuts and wounds. 

He was just about to leave when he heard the tiniest sound. It was hardly indistinguishable form the sound of a small animal, but it made him turn, the fury washing back over him as he looked for the last goblin to slay. 

A small gasp escaped his lips. He made his way over to a small figure bowed over itself, tied to a tree. It resembled a very small elf, clad in a white gown trimmed with gold now stained a deep red. Upon seeing how small it was, he realized who's footprints he had seen, and his heart softened. Sinking to his knees, he thought the worst. 

Secretly watching through the trees, soft eyes turned away as Aragorn gently cut the thick bonds that bound the girl to the tree. He laid her head on his rough and torn knees, examining it. Tangled long dark brown hair spilled over her golden face. She was but a child among elves, still quite small. 

Her clothing had been ripped and torn, dark crimson stains and burns along her arms. On her face one eye was bruised and purple, a cheek had been recently scratched; it was still bleeding. Something in his heart made him care, and he dared to hope. 

There was another small sniff and then her eyes jerked open. Realizing what was happening she sat up and tried to throw herself far from the unknown face above her, wincing with pain. Her large, wide green brown eyes looked at him, terrified. Then, when her back hit a tree, she broke. Tears spilled out and she bowed her head, pulling her knees up and hugging them to her chest. 

Aragorn's heart swelled as he spoke to her more softly than he had in a great time in elvish. 

"Do not fearI mean to helpthe goblins have been slainDo not fear little one"

Through her dark hair she looked at him, eyes glistening, feeling his strong arms around her small, shivering figure. She looked up at him, into his soft green eyes, as he smoothed the hair from her face. She relaxed against him, and asked in a small voice:

"Who are you?"

"I was called EstelI am Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

There was a small intake of breath; she knew his name. 

"And who are you?" he asked.

"Elimmere," came a faint whisper. 

"Ah, star jewel," he whispered, tending her wounds as best he could with his own garments.

She looked up at him, locking eyes. "Thank you"

"I got lost. We were having a celebrationand I wanted to find my brother. "

At that moment, Legolas and Gimli came next to Aragorn, Legolas kneeling and Gimli with a hand upon his shoulder. 

Elimmere's eyes began to droop and she leaned against him. He saw the look in Gimli and Legolas's eyes, and shook his head. 

They sat in silence, gazing into the fire as Elimmere slept, her head on his chest. He watched her gracefully breathe, until it became more and more difficult, and began to slow down. Then Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up.

"Estel" was all she could manage before her eyes closed. He watched as her chest rose one last time, and was still. Tears came to Gimli's eyes and Legolas bowed his head. 

Aragorn didn't want to move, it felt like Elimmere was only sleeping, but his sharp ear knew her heart had ceased to beat. "Be at peace, Elimmere."

~*~

They continued on in the pale light of dawn, never once looking back at the freshly dug grave, decorated with spring flowers. Aragorn sighed. His sword felt heavy and cumbersome. His last words kept playing through his mind:be at peacebe at peaceHe pushed them away.They had a long journey ahead. 


End file.
